


Very Soon Their Eyes Will Meet

by balloonstand



Category: Shameless (US)
Genre: Army AU
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-11-22
Updated: 2013-11-22
Packaged: 2018-01-02 08:40:01
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,032
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1054752
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/balloonstand/pseuds/balloonstand
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>AU where Mickey and Ian first meet at Basic Training</p>
            </blockquote>





	Very Soon Their Eyes Will Meet

**Author's Note:**

> Title from "Love at First Sight" by XTC

“All right, you have to let go or the bus is going to leave without me,” Ian said. He was caught in the fourth group hug of the morning, and the longest one yet. All the other boys were already on board the bus and Ian was getting a little embarrassed. He loved his family, but this was getting ridiculous.

“If you miss it, you miss it. Don’t fight fate,” the red-haired girl with her arms around his waist advised him. He ruffled her hair affectionately before peeling her arms way from him.

“Sorry, Debs. Don’t worry, I’ll be back before you know it.”

The little huddle around him opened up and Lip handed him his bag. They had already said goodbye so many times, so with one more glance over their faces – Fiona proud but teary, Lip smiling his crooked grin, Liam watching a bird eat a French fry on the far side of the parking lot, Carl looking worried, and Debbie holding back her tears – Ian boarded the bus.

Since he was the last one on the bus, there was only one seat left. Ian slid down into it and tried not to be offended when the guy with the window seat leaned away from him.

“Listen up, we have a six and a half hour bus ride ahead of us,” the sergeant at the front of the bus informed them. “Get to know your seat buddy. Sleep. I don’t care, just don’t get too loud and no fighting.”

Ian looked over at his seat buddy who had by now angled his body away, discouraging Ian from getting to know him as the sergeant had suggested. He was probably about Ian’s age, maybe a few years older. His black hair was longer than most of the boys on the bus had theirs, but would still be considered short. He was pale with his bright blue eyes and his red lips seeming even more colorful in comparison to his light skin. Ian could see his right hand with FUCK tattooed over the knuckles. He wondered if there was more to the tattoo on the other hand. This guy didn’t look like any of the other recruits with their military haircuts and clean-cut looks.

“Hey, I’m Ian Gallagher.”

The other boy glared at him over his shoulder, still keeping his body facing the window. “Yeah, so fucking what?”

Ian felt a smile tugging at the corner of his lips at the unnecessarily hostile response. “What’s your name?”

The boy stared at him for a minute before grunting, “Mickey Milkovich.”

“Nice to-“

Mickey turned away again. He pulled earphones out of his pocket and put them in his ears, effectively ending the conversation. Ian shrugged.

An Asian kid leaned across the aisle. “Sorry you got stuck with the convict. No one wanted to sit next to him and you got here last so you had to sit next to him.” Ian blinked. Did this guy just say Mickey was a convict? He wanted to ask but the kid was still talking.

“My name’s Ralph by the way. My parents were really excited when I enlisted because I didn’t apply to colleges and they were worried that I was going to be a bum or something I think. But I’m not and they’re happy about that. What does your family think? About you joining the army?”

“Uh, they’re cool with it I guess,” Ian said. “Did you say Mickey is a convict?”

“Yeah,” Ralph nodded excitedly. “He robbed some convenience store a bunch of times and when he finally got caught the judge said he could go to prison or join the army.  
And you know what he did?”

“Chose prison?” Ian said sarcastically. He thought he heard a soft chuckle from next to him, but when he glanced over, Mickey was still glaring out the window.

“No,” Ralph said, his eyes wide. “He joined the army!”

“Really?” Ian asked, mock incredulously.

“Yeah!” Ralph smiled at him, either not hearing his sarcasm or not bothered by it. Ian gave him a small smile in return. Ralph might be the most earnest person he had ever met.

The rest of the bus ride dragged on with Ralph chattering in the seat next to him. He barely paused for breath and Ian said about as much as Mickey did.  
+++

Hell Week was a blur of sore muscles and shouted orders from drill sergeants. Ian adjusted more quickly than some of the others to their new schedule. He actually liked the routine. It was simple and predictable, a complete contrast to living back home. It made it easier to be away from his family when nothing reminded him of them and he didn’t have time to be homesick anyway.

Their second week, they actually got to fire their weapons. M164A rifles, Ian noted with excitement. He was a good shot and he wanted to impress. Ralph stood next to him as they lined up at the shooting range. They had been thrown together enough during hell week that they had sort of become friends. Or if they were not friends exactly, at least it felt natural for them to stand together at training.

“Wow, look at these guns!” Ralph said to Ian in what passed as a whisper for him, but was closer to a conversational volume. “This is going to be great.”

“You know what would be really great?” a surly voice cut in. “You shutting the fuck up.”

Ralph looked down, crestfallen. Ian glared at Mickey as he passed them, laughing at his own stupid joke. As soon as they stepped off the bus, Mickey seemed to go out of his way to make them all as miserable as he could. He took food off their trays, didn’t say anything that wasn’t meant to insult someone, tripped them up during drills. And it seemed to delight him more than anything when he could piss someone off enough to take a swing at him.

It had added something really special to Hell Week.

“Don’t let that asshole get to you, Ralph,” Ian said quietly. “It’s just a lot of noise. He’s probably pissed he’s doing the worst of anyone here.”

“No, it’s not just that,” Ralph said miserably. “I think he took my-“ He broke off and looked around before continuing in a genuine whisper. “My teddy bear.”

Ian snorted with laughter and immediately regretted it when Ralph’s eyes filled with tears.

“You seriously brought a teddy bear to basic training?” he asked, not able to keep all of the amusement from his voice.

“It was my little sister’s. She gave it to me for luck and I kept it hidden really well, but then I took it out to get to some of the stuff at the bottom of my bag and Milkovich just grabbed it before I could do anything,” Ralph said. Ian felt a twist in his gut when Ralph mentioned his sister. Ian thought of Debbie and how crushed she’d be if Ian had let some punk take a present from her. His sympathy for Ralph rose. Goddamn Mickey.

Ralph took the loss of the bear harder than Ian expected. He was useless at firing his weapon and moped around whenever he didn’t have explicit orders to do something.

Ian told him multiple times to snap out of it, if only to keep that smug look off Mickey’s face whenever he looked over at them. Finally, Ralph’s morose bullshit got to him.

“Jesus, Ralph. If I get your bear back will you cheer the fuck up?”

Ralph’s face lit up. “Really, you’re going to get it back?”

“If it means you stop acting like a fucking six-year-old girl, then yeah, I’ll try.” He smiled so Ralph would know he wasn’t serious about the six-year-old girl thing.

“Ian! You’re the best!” Ralph flung his arms around Ian. Ian patted him awkwardly on the back before removing himself from the embrace.

“I know it.”  
+++

Ian planned it carefully. Mickey might be at the bottom of the group in training achievements, but that was because he didn’t give a shit about any of it, not because he couldn’t fight. Ian had already seen him send a couple of kids to the infirmary. He had probably grown up fighting and knew every dirty trick.

Ian didn’t want to risk the trouble he’d be in if he was caught fighting – and he didn’t want to get his face kicked in over a goddamn teddy bear – so he planned to sneak back in to the barracks during lunch. Then he would grab the damn thing and hide it somewhere and that would be that.

Of course in the end it wasn’t as simple as that. Getting out of the mess hall and back to the barracks was no problem. But when he opened the door, he found the room to be less empty than he had anticipated.

Goddamn Mickey.

The asshole was lying there asleep on his stomach, arms by his side. His back rose and fell rhythmically with his deep breathing. Ian cursed himself for not checking the mess hall for Mickey before sneaking out. But since he was here, he may as well try.

He approached the bed carefully, quietly. His knee bumped a post of one of the other beds noisily and he froze. Mickey mumbled but didn’t wake.

Ian kneeled to pull Mickey’s bag out from underneath his bed and opened it, then barely kept himself from swearing out loud. It was empty. He looked under the bed but there was nothing there either.

Ian rocked back so he was sitting on his heels and considered his options. Mickey hadn’t woken up, he could put the bag back and tell Ralph sorry but he was pretty sure Mickey had destroyed his sister’s bear because he didn’t have it with his stuff. Debbie’s face flashed in his mind again and he sighed. Shit, this was going to suck.

“Wake up, shithead” he said, kicking the side of Mickey’s bed.

Mickey stirred, rubbing his eyes sleepily. Ian paused in kicking the bed and watched Mickey sit up. His sleepy expression made him look almost sweet. Ian bit the inside of his cheek to keep from smiling. Then he remembered why he was here and he had no trouble keeping a straight face.

“Gallagher?” Mickey said.

“Give me the”– shit, there was no way he was going to sound tough saying this –“teddy bear.”

Mickey studied him for a minute, not moving. Ian felt his embarrassment building. Why couldn’t Mickey have taken Ralph’s knife or something?

“The teddy bear, Mickey!”

“All right, all right.”

Mickey swung his legs off the bed. Suddenly he lunged at Ian who really should have seen it coming. He grabbed Ian around the middle and flung him down. Ian landed on the bed, his head smacking the wall. Ian let out a surprised shout as he fell back. Mickey clambered onto the bed. He straddled Ian’s chest, his fist clenched and ready.

Mickey paused.

Ian suddenly realized that in the position they were in, Mickey’s crotch was right in his face. He felt a rush of warmth and couldn’t stop himself from glancing down at it before flicking his eyes back up to meet Mickey’s. They locked gazes for a moment and then in a burst of motion they began tearing off their clothes.  
+++

They were lying side by side, panting by the time that Ian realized that this meant that Mickey Milkovich was gay. Ian had pretty much always known he preferred men, or at least he hadn’t been surprised when he took the time to think about it and officially decided he way gay. He wondered when Mickey had figured it out. Whenever they talked about sex during meals or at night when they had some time to hang out, Mickey was always full of stories about girls he had fucked or tried to fuck.

When Mickey handed him the teddy bear – he had hidden it in the first aid box on the wall, sneaky bastard – Ian leaned in to kiss him. A thank you for the teddy bear too, but mostly for the amazing sex. Mickey turned away.

“Kiss me and I’ll cut your fucking tongue out.”

Ian was surprised for a moment then shrugged. He stashed the bear in Ralph’s bag instead of hiding it somewhere. He knew Mickey wouldn’t try to steal it again.  
+++

Ian couldn’t sleep. He listened to the slow breathing of his platoon mates as he stared up at the dark ceiling. He was lying on his back with one hand behind his head and the other resting on his stomach. He couldn’t stop thinking about the other day. About Mickey.

Predictably, over the past few days Mickey had acted as though nothing had happened. Ian hadn’t pushed it. But he had paid more attention to the boy than usual. He liked the way he walked in that confident sauntering way of his. He liked the way his lips twitched and the way he bit them whenever he thought hard. Ian wished Mickey had let him kiss those lips.

He was thinking about that now in the dark when the quiet was interrupted by a whisper.

“Hey. Gallagher.”

Ian sat up. “Mickey?”

The other boy was standing near the foot of his bed. He rubbed his bottom lip self-consciously. “There’s, uh, this thing I want to show you. Outside.” He raised his eyebrows and Ian wanted to laugh. Yeah, I get it, he thought.

He jumped up from his bed and followed Mickey outside to see this "thing."  
+++

The next few weeks were the best Ian could remember having for a long time. He was having amazing sex regularly, but it was getting to be more than that. The best part was quickly becoming the guy he was screwing. He was crude and mean and violent, sure. But Ian liked him. He had quickly realized that there was never any anger when Mickey said shit to him. It was just his way of being playful. Or maybe it was the only way he knew how to talk.

Ian liked how easily he could get Mickey on the defensive. They had been walking back to the barracks after sucking each other off behind the bathrooms when Ian saw a shooting star. He pointed it out to Mickey who growled that if Ian wanted to spread a blanket out and look for shooting stars he should ask Ralph because Mickey was not fucking interested.

Ian liked how he could catch Mickey watching him during the day and Mickey would roll his eyes or whatever, but still. Mickey had been watching him. Ian liked the way that even though he acted like he didn’t give a shit about their conversations, that they were just filling time between fucking, he would remember every detail later.

He liked how Mickey was starting to let his touches linger. Their fingers had brushed walking home one night and Ian could have sworn that Mickey curled his index finger around Ian’s for the briefest moment before he yanked his hand away. And one night they had fallen asleep on the grass after an exhausting round of fucking. Ian had woken up with Mickey resting his head on Ian’s chest, tracing his stomach muscles with a finger. Ian shifted a little and Mickey sprung away. Ian pretended to know nothing about it when he “woke up” a few minutes later, but he wasn’t ever going to forget that.

They hadn’t been able to sneak away in a few days because training had amped up. They were all aware that their PT test was just a couple weeks away. Around that time they would have to demonstrate proficiency with a variety of weapons and go on overnight field training exercises too. Ian was excited about the overnight training. He couldn’t help but imagine scenarios where he and Mickey would be sharing a tent. They’d be able to sleep side by side. Maybe even cuddle a little. He knew better than to expect that to actually happen, but hey it was a nice daydream.

But he was worried too. Mickey had taken training a little more seriously as time went on, but he was still way behind most of the others. Ian didn’t want him to fail his PT test. He brought it up at lunch.

“Why the fuck are we talking about this?” Mickey said, looking around for anyone who might have heard.

“It just makes us seem more suspicious when you do that, you know,” Ian said, rolling his eyes. Mickey flipped him off. “And I’m just trying to help you out. You don’t want to have to go to jail after all this, do you?”

“Fuck no.”

“Then let me help you.”

Mickey considered. “As long as it doesn’t cut into my free time.”

Ian grinned and Mickey smiled back briefly before turning his attention back to his food.  
+++

The two of them were sitting against a chain link fence and looking out over the training field where Ian had just been trying to help Mickey with the obstacle course. Mickey had gotten much better over the past week or so they had been practicing. Tonight, they stopped when the sun went down and Mickey had opened his backpack and pulled out some beers. When Ian asked where he got them, Mickey just rolled his eyes and asked if wanted a beer or not. Ian did. They were sitting close enough that their thighs were almost touching. Ian could feel the heat coming off Mickey’s body, even through the thick layers of their uniform pants. He snuck a sideways glance at Mickey and wondered what he would think if Ian gave voice to half the things he thought about him. He’d definitely call him a fag and tell him to fuck off.

But what would he think?

Ian wasn’t likely to find out. They didn’t exactly talk about their feelings, the two of them. Ian didn’t really mind because they showed their feelings about three or four times a week and that was good enough for him. Well, for now.

He was starting to really fall for Mickey and that scared him, mostly because he had no idea what Mickey was thinking, not ever.

Mickey burped, interrupting Ian’s thoughts. “You’re quiet, Gallagher. Did I wear you out or something?” He grinned crookedly.

“Something like that, Mick.”

Mickey started talking about the obstacle course, but Ian tuned him out. He just watched Mickey’s lips move, sometimes catching flashes of teeth as they worked open and closed. Thoughts of kissing, licking, biting came unbidden to his mind. His hands clenched unconsciously as he imagined gripping Mickey hard by the hair on the back of his head and pulling him in for a hard kiss. He imagined running a finger over Mickey’s lips, tracing the curves of his mouth before doing the same with his tongue.

“The fuck are you looking at?” Mickey asked gruffly, breaking through his thoughts for the second time in just a couple minutes.

Ian dropped his eyes to the beer can in his hands. “Nothing.”

There was a pause. When Ian raised his eyes again, Mickey was looking at him intently. They stayed like that for a minute, just looking at each other. Then Mickey leaned in and pressed his lips to Ian’s. Ian reached his hand up to touch Mickey’s cheek. Mickey tilted his head so he could press his face into Ian’s touch. Ian slid his lips openly slightly and Mickey responded. The kiss got more heated and soon they were both pulling their shirts off, offering each other a hand with his shirt. Ian was pushing Mickey onto his back and crawling on top on him when there was some kind of commotion to their left. Both boys looked over and then froze when they saw a pair of boots that led to legs, then torso, and all the way up to the smug face of one of their commanding officers.

“Well, well, boys,” he said delightedly as Ian and Mickey scrambled back up to their feet and hurried to dress themselves. “What’s going on here?”

“None of your fucking business,” Mickey spat at him, dragging his hand across his mouth like he was wiping away Ian’s kiss. Ian felt himself go rigid at the gesture.

“Aren’t you two supposed to be back at the barracks?” Lt Lloyd continued, pleased as hell with himself for his discovery. He beamed at Ian. “But you just couldn’t resist running off to make out with your boyfriend, huh?”

Mickey’s head had been swiveling around but he snapped back to look at Lloyd. “What’d you just call me?” A small smile tugged at the corner of Mickey’s mouth and Ian knew what was going to happen seconds before Mickey lunged forward and smashed his forehead down on the bridge of the lieutenant’s nose. The man fell backwards and Mickey took off running.

Ian wanted to follow, but Mickey was gone without a backwards glance and the lieutenant was groaning and clutching his nose.

Ian crouched down beside him. “Shit, sorry about your nose, sir.”

The lieutenant gave him a sardonic look as Ian helped him to a sitting position and said nothing. He was concentrating on stopping the blood flowing.

“Listen,” Ian said carefully. “I-I know someone is going to have to take the fall for this. Let it be me. Mickey… he’s already got enough problems. I don’t want him to go to prison. Just say I was the one who hit you, okay?”

“Aren’t you the sweetest boyfriend ever,” the lieutenant muttered.

“Not his boyfriend,” Ian corrected.

The lieutenant was getting to his feet now. “So you’re single?”

“Uh-“

The lieutenant laughed. “I like you, Gallagher. You work hard and you care about doing things right, not just getting through them. You’re clearly going places. Milkovich isn’t. I’ve seen his file. That kid is a dead end. You don’t want to let him…” he gestured vaguely. “Hold you back. Do you?”

Ian didn’t know how to respond. He had filled with pride at the lieutenant’s praise, but it had been soured by the man’s dismissal of Mickey.

“Tell you what,” the lieutenant continued. “I won’t say anything about this,” he pointed to his bleeding nose, “ or that I saw you two…together, and you find someone else to shower your affection on. Your PT test is coming. Don’t let Milkovich fuck this up for you.”

Ian could feel the anger burning in his gut as he walked back to the barracks, mingling with his shame for not sticking up for Mickey. That shit the lieutenant had said – that wasn’t true and Ian had just let him say it anyway. He rationalized that he wouldn’t be any good to Mickey if he got himself kicked out for pummeling an officer. But a louder voice was saying that he wasn’t any good to Mickey when he let people say that bullshit about him. By the time he got back to the barracks, Ian had resolved to find Lt. Lloyd the next day and tell him how wrong he was.

Mickey wasn’t among the chaos in their barrack. His cot was empty and he wasn’t part of the card game happening in the middle of the floor. Ian sighed and flopped down on his cot. His heart leapt when he felt someone sit down next to him making the bed sag a little, but it returned to normal when he saw it was just Ralph, not Mickey.

“What’s up, Ralph?” Ian said, letting his eyes slide closed.

“Did you hear about what just happened with Milkovich?”

Ian’s eyes flew open. What the fuck, the lieutenant had promised he wouldn’t say anything! If Mickey was getting kicked out now because of this-

“He went in to talk to Lt. Lloyd and asked to be sent to prison. He said that he didn’t like the army and he’d rather be in prison.”

“Holy shit,” Ian breathed. His heart was clenching painfully. He tried to keep his expression blank and his voice as he asked, “Did they send him to prison?”

Ralph shook his head. “No. I mean, I didn’t hear that part, but Milkovich came storming out all pissed off and so I think Lloyd said no.” Ralph shrugged. “I think they should just let him go to prison.”

“Where is he?” Ian started pulling his boots back on.

“Why? What are you doing?”

“See you, Ralph.”

“Ian! What the fuck?”  
+++

It took him about twenty minutes to track him down. He was on the roof of an empty barracks building, the place he and Ian had gone that first night.

When Ian stepped into his eye line, Mickey looked up at him guiltily for a moment before dropping his eyes.

“He’s not going to say anything, Mick,” Ian said. “About anything.”

“Can’t fucking trust him.”

“Then don’t trust him. Trust me.”

Mickey met his gaze again, eyes wide. “No.”

“Mickey-“

No, we’re done, you hear me? Fucking done.”

“I-I thought they’re not letting you go to prison.”

“Doesn’t matter. What did you think, that you’re my boyfriend or something?” Mickey barked out a short laugh. “You’re nothing but a warm mouth to me.”

With tears flooding his eyes and panic making his throat clench, all Ian managed to stutter out was, “I-I don’t want…you can’t…”

And Mickey was gone, not going to stick around to see how Ian was going to finish that sentence.

Alone, Ian let the tears fall.  
+++

It was cold, but the sun was blinding and Ian squinted against it. He hadn’t had enough beer the night before with Mickey to be hung over, but he had that same sluggish, pained, hating the world feeling as he lined up at the shooting range. He had cried himself dry the now before and his head ached from it.

“Hi, Ian,” said a timid voice to his right. Ian turned to see Ralph regarding him nervously.

“Hey, Ralph.”

“Are-are you all right? You look kind of…” He trailed off.

“Just didn’t sleep well.”

Ralph didn’t look convinced. “Does this have something to do with–“

Their platoon leader yelled out a command and Ian shut off his brain, putting everything he had into the physical, leaving none for the mental.

Or at least, he tried.

It worked well enough until lunch, but eating didn’t provide the same kind of distraction that training did and Ian felt his thoughts wander back to Mickey. He couldn’t let himself think of the hard look in Mickey’s eyes or the harsh laugh he had let out right before calling Ian nothing more than a warm mouth. He couldn’t think about that, not if he didn’t want to start crying in the middle of lunch. Instead, he thought about what Lt. Lloyd had said, that Mickey was just going to hold him back.

Not fucking true, Ian though angrily. He had hated training today. There had been no shared sideways glances. When he had done something well, he hadn’t been able to look over smugly at Mickey and see the brief flash of pride before he rolled his eyes. He hadn’t been able to see Mickey’s improvement with pride of his own. The lieutenant, his platoon leader – they could say as much as they wanted to about how well he was doing, but it was Mickey’s encouragement he needed. He needed Mickey.

Ian stood abruptly, his chair making a loud scraping sound across the floor. Everyone at the long table looked up at the noise, including Mickey. Ian strode right over to him.

“Mickey-“

“What the fuck?”

“-we need to talk.”

“Fuck off, Gallagher.”

Mickey was standing now too, looking ready for a fight. Ian’s heart dropped. This wasn’t what he wanted. He wanted to tell Mickey how he needed him and he was just being reminded that he didn’t have him. He was suddenly aware that confronting Mickey like this in public was a dumbass move.

“Fine.” Ian turned and stalked back to his seat. The rest of the guys at the table exchanged confused and uneasy looks. Conversations slowly resumed. Ian stared sullenly at his food.

“Ian?”

Ian grunted.

“This isn’t because of the, uh, the teddy bear thing, is it?”

Ian snorted. “No, Ralph. It’s not about the teddy bear.”  
+++

Ian usually called his home number when he had a chance to use the phones, but today he dialed Lip’s cell phone number. It rang twice and Lip answered.

“Hello?”

Ian could hear traffic and wind. Lip wasn’t at home. Good, he didn’t need the others hearing this. “It’s me.”

“Ian! Everything okay?”

“I need to talk to you. About a guy.”

“There was a pause and then Lip laughed. “I should have known you’d find someone to fuck there.”

Ian smiled. “Yeah, for pretty much the whole time I’ve been here. Except we got caught–“

“Holy shit.”

“Yeah, and now he won’t even look at me. We didn’t get in trouble or anything, but he tried to get them to send him back to prison instead–“

“Slow down. What’s this about prison?”

Ian explained. “But he likes me, I know it. He likes me a lot. I’m probably the first person he’s liked this much.”

“Someone’s cocky.”

“Lip, what do I do?”

“You do what you’re there to do,” Lip said firmly. “You’re there to kick ass, not to fuck it. Just stay focused.”

“But-“

“I’m not saying you can’t have both,” Lip said, speaking quickly. “You just need to, you know, prioritize. Think about much work is this guy going to be and if he’s worth it.”  
+++

Finally, finally, the PT test came and went. Everyone was tense and short-fused as the nerves got to them all. Ian had passed with well above the required score of 60 points in each category. Ralph had almost passed, but scored a 39 on push-ups. Mickey failed everything except pull-ups.

Anyone who failed their PT test could retake it until graduation. There was still time for Mickey to shape up. Not that that was likely to happen. Ian had been making a point of not watching Mickey during training, but he still saw how Mickey was reverting back to not giving a shit and how his performance was suffering because of it. Ian wasn’t surprised when Mickey failed his PT test.

But when Mickey showed up without any gear for their three-day field exercise, Ian had to do something.

“Where the hell is your stuff? Do you want to keep failing your PT test or something?”

“If I keep failing, I go to prison,” Mickey said, brushing past Ian.

Ian stopped, rooted to the spot by this knowledge. The rest of the platoon had passed him too by the time he remembered how to use his legs again and he had to hurry to catch up.

No fucking way was he going to let Mickey go to prison. He caught up with Mickey and kept paced beside him. Mickey glared at him, but nothing else. As they walked the platoon leader reminded them of their schedule for their first day in this exercise.

“The duty platoon has already been up to the training area and set up the company area. We have a 10K footmarch to the bivouac site and when we get there, no one will do any setting up or digging until the commander verifies the perimeter. Then we’ll set up a perimeter guard on rotation and settle in.”

“You can share my stuff,” Ian told Mickey in a whisper.

“Remember to report any sensitive items to the battalion S3 Shop,” the platoon leader continued.

“I don’t want to share your shit, Gallagher.”

“Before dark, we’ll do a tick check,” the platoon leader said, glaring at them.

“You need to share with someone, Mickey. You’re not an idiot so don’t act like one. And you’re not failing your fucking PT test again either, so we’re going to practice for that too.”

“Tonight we’re going to conduct a terrain walk after dark to familiarize ourselves with the area.” The platoon leader was almost shouting now.

Mickey ground his teeth. “Fine, whatever.”  
+++

Training that night had been rough, all of them unused to the terrain. Ian had stayed conscious long enough to make sure he was paired with Mickey for perimeter guard duty and then passed out on top of his sleeping bag. When he woke up a couple hours later, he was stiff with the cold. He quickly unzipped his sleeping bag to wiggled into it, but stopped when he remembered Mickey. He glanced around the groups of sleeping figures around him until he spotted him shivering a few feet away. Ian rolled his eyes.

“Get over here, idiot,” he called softly.

“I’m fine.” Mickey growled.

“Yeah, you look fine. I always shiver violently when I’m fine.”

“Fuck you.”

“You’d have to come over here if you want to do that.”

Mickey looked around wildly, making sure no one heard that. No one else stirred. Then he let out a soft laugh, more like a breath. “Jesus, Gallagher. You just don’t give up, do you?”

Ian shrugged and only just managed to restrain himself from saying the cheesiest thing he had ever said in his life. Not on you, baby.

They didn’t get into the sleeping bag. Instead, they both lay on top of it, Mickey with his back pressed into Ian. Ian put his arm around Mickey’s waist and pulled him closer.

“Take your arm off before I break it off.”

Ian gave him a squeeze and didn’t remove his arm. Mickey sighed but didn’t say anything. Ian felt fingers brush his, but then they were gone.

They stayed like that until Mickey heard the perimeter guard approaching to wake Ian and Mickey for their turn. He rolled away so quickly, Ian had barely registered that he was moving and he was already eight feet away.

As Ian and Mickey paced the perimeter they had walked earlier with their platoon, Ian tried to find the words to begin with. He knew the middle already: “I love you, Mickey.” And he knew the end too: “Fuck you, Gallagher” (I love you too). He didn’t know how to start. It turned out that he didn’t have to.

“Why do you care so much about me not going to prison?” Mickey said unexpectedly. He was looking straight ahead and didn’t stop walking.

“You picked the army, right? So you don’t want to go to prison. And you hate it here, so prison must be really shitty.”

“I don’t know,” Mickey said softly. “Not everything here is that bad.”

Ian tripped over a rock in his surprise. Had Mickey just said the end part? “You mean me?”

“No, shithead, the fucking food.”

“Sorry about lunch the other day,” Ian said, suddenly reminded of it. “I shouldn’t have done that.”

Mickey shrugged. “I thought I was going to punch you.”

“Me too. But you didn’t.”

“Didn’t want to.”

Ian grinned. “I’m so glad you picked the army. I love that you’re here. I love you.”  
+++

The next two days went by more quickly than Ian thought they would. They practiced ambushes and nighttime combat as well as their regular drills. Mickey let Ian whisper corrections to him and actually listened. When they got back, he was going to pass his PT test, Ian was sure. Sometimes, when Mickey mastered something he hadn’t been able to do before he would stare in awe, like he had just performed a fucking miracle. Like he couldn’t believe he hadn’t fucked it up. Ian wanted to be there to see Mickey’s face when he passed the PT test and when he graduated and when he was promoted and every fucking time that he achieved something so when Mickey got that look, he could roll his eyes and tell him of course he did it, he was Mickey Milkovich and he could do anything. Then whisper in his ear that he loved him.


End file.
